


Going Out with a Bang

by flyin_brick



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: 'Nough Said, Post TFTM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyin_brick/pseuds/flyin_brick
Summary: You always were at your best when you were on the job.Jazz smiled. Not right.Was better when I was with you.





	Going Out with a Bang

**Author's Note:**

> First posted to the ProwlxJazz Community on LJ. Characters/Property are not mine.
> 
> Not beta'd. I'm going through some old writing and posting what doesn't make me cringe...so....here ya go.

"Third in Command Jazz: You are hereby relieved of your duty."

_Really should have expected that._

"Please hand over your tactical case files to Ultra Magnus, and your spec op files to Springer."

_As if they could make any sense of it anyway._

"You are sequestered to Autobot City until such time as First Aid can deem you fit for duty, and then you can petition your reinstatement with Magnus."

_And we both know that'll never happen. Nobody will just come out and SAY it._

_"_ Dismissed."

Jazz turned on his heel and strode from the room without so much as a word. Out of the corner of his visor he saw Rodimus Prime motion for Ultra Magnus to stand down from his obvious objection and imminant lecture.

_Just as well. Not as if one of his lectures would matter much anyway._

The porche moved through the halls silently with the grace that almost a lifetime as a special ops mech granted him. He knew it unsettled most of the crew now, and he'd heard comments likening him to a ghost.

Never had a description been more apt. Jazz was nothing; a hollow shell of the vibrant mech that could lighten a room with a disarming grin. He was a pale imitation. The spectre of Autobot City.

Most of the time not spent in their berth was spent aimlessly wandering the halls, lingering breifly to check on one particular office, and moving along when that office was yet again empty. Days had passed to weeks and then months in this way...a numb haze of grief since the day they'd found the downed shuttle.

Jazz was surprised that it had taken this long for Command to act. Did they honestly think he would have eventually snapped out of it? Had Jazz been capable, he would have laughed in all their faces.

One does not really "snap out of" the loss of one's bondmate. Not that he wanted to. By all rights, he should have followed Prowl into the Well when he felt the bond stretch taught and shatter into shards too small to grasp.

He'd wanted to.

He STILL wanted to.

~*()*~

"But he can't DO that!" Hound shouted in the (relative) privacy of the room he shared with Mirage. "We've always gone out as a team! Changing the dynamic now puts you at risk!"

Mirage watched the other mech pace across the room from his position on the berth. "I know," he voice softly, "But I can't argue with them. Jazz would have listened to the concerns of his agents. Primus, he would have known himself...but Springer doesn't. I've already confided in Jazz, but he has no pull against the Command structure now. I don't know what else to do." Strong arms wrapped around him and a face pressed in against his neck.

"Then don't go. Let's just go...."

The spy let his optics dim and he sighed, wrapping his arms around the mech that had become his whole existence. The mech he'd tied his spark to. "We can't, Hound. Where would we go?" He softly strummed his digits up and down the back of his bonded's helm, something that always managed to soothe him. "I'll come back to you. I promise."

"....You'd better," Hound strangled out.

~*()*~

Colors and sound were both muffled as if they were seen and heard through a great difference. Someone was groaning.

"He's coming around..."

"Hound? Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

The green mech groaned, and then realized it was his own voice he was hearing. "LIke slag...what happened...?"

The medium-sized red-and-white blob resolved itself to be First Aid. "You had an accident out on patrol."

"Yeah," Hotspot chirped in. "Knocked yourself clear out on a tree. Have to watch those slippery roads!"

"I...crashed?"

First Aid nodded. "You'll be fine. Just scrambled a few circuits. Some rest and energon and you'll be fine."

That wasn't it. He'd been in accidents before, and he'd remembered them. He didn't even remember GOING on patrol. And he'd neveeer woken up with a fuzzy sense of-...dread?

Wait. That wasn't him. That was-!

"MIRAGE!"

Hound was instantly out of the berth and running for the door to the medbay. He barely heard the pede falls behind him, First Aid's objection or Hotspot's confused "But he's away on a mission." He let the panic in his spark guide him, and right now it was leading him to their quarters. Hound flew down the coridoors, nearly breaking down the door in his haste to get in the door before freezing.

Mirage was inside, sitting on the floor against the berth, arms bound above his helm.

His entire frame was limp, the stasis mantle clipped to his throat keeping the charge out of the systems below. The spy looked up at the scout and the small crowd of two behind him, optics dim and panicked.

Hound fell to his knees beside his mate and both his shaking hands cupped his cheeks, softly lifting his helm to make sure he was alright. He felt the other two moving around him, but his optics never left the others, pushing reassurance through the bond.

Hotspot closed the door to the room before coming over to undo the cuffs while First Aid unclipped the stasis mantle. Instantly the other mech began to move, word tumbling out of his vocalizer as soon as it booted.

Jazz. Caught him off-gaurd before he'd left. Drugged him and strung him up before he'd had a chance to react or call anyone. Disabled his comm and left him locked in until he was found. Hound folded the distraught mech into his arms.

"Wait," Hotspot interjected, "if his comm was busted how did you-"

"We're bonded," Hound admitted softly. "I could feel him as soon as I woke up." First Aid shook his helm. "I would have known! It would have been in my-"

Ratchet didn't include it in his records...at our request," Mirage admitted. "We did not want it to be widely known because of our roles in Special Operations."

"And the new Command wouldn't have known that," finished Hotspot. Both mechs nodded. "Then the accident-"

Mirage cut him off. "To get us out of the way." He tucked himself up against his mate. "Oh  _Jazz_..."

Hotspot frowned, and commed Ultra Magnus.

~*()*~

Colors were brighter, his senses sharper. He moved with a silent grace, avoiding any and all security in the Quintesson base.

Another charge laid, another sliding into his palm. All structural points covered. Ammunition. Food reserves. Prison cells left "accidentally" unlocked. For the first time in months, Jazz almost felt like himself.

_You always were at your best when you were on the job._

Jazz smiled. Not right.  _Was better when I was with you._

Charges set and prisoners safely shown outside with a data stick of the intel Mirage was meant to gather (and explicit instructions on who to give it to), there was only one last thing to do.

Jazz kicked open the door and strode right into the assembly hall, trademark smile gracing his features.

"WHO ARE YOU!"

"CYBERTRONIAN, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"

Jazz just shrugged, chuckling. "Time ta bow out, Uglies. You've done enough damage t'my kind, and it's time it came to an end." The trigger slid into his palm and he tossed it casually in the air.

"GAURDS!"

"PREPOSTEROUS! You'll die as well!"

Jazz smiled. A real, genuine smile. "Yeah. And it'll be with  _style."_

He pressed the button.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So....does anyone know why I can't post indented paragraphs?


End file.
